Faith Works 3-19-22

Faith Works 3-19-22
Jeff Gill

Righteous anger might be an oxymoron
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If we start with a Biblical and New Testament perspective, it's hard to support the concept of righteous anger. To wit:

"My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires." James 1:19-20 (NIV)

Pretty much closes that door, at least for those of us wanting to affirm Biblical authority in a statement that precise, that clear.

It's still a temptation.

And when it comes to temptation, I call on God to help me resist it, to save me from the time of trial, and in Jesus trust in grace when I fail. Which is not infrequently.

Last week I was escorting an elderly relative in his 90s through a medically ordered heart test; he has a pacemaker and some other symptoms that had us wanting to check out some basic questions. So we made our cautious, careful way inside, and back to the suite where we checked in and waited our turn for the exam, and both he and I were masked, as not only makes sense for a hospital setting but is clearly required for entry at the main door, in the hallway, and signage reaffirming all of this on entry to this part of the (did I mention this?) heart hospital.

Just as we were getting my charge seated, and it was busy enough there were not seats enough for such as me, which was fine but tells you how relatively crowded the room was, a nurse came out of the back and walked up to a man seated right next to us. Clearly a request had gone into the clinic from (I assume) one of the registry clerks behind their windows before we walked in.

The man next to us had his mask on, but pulled down below his chin. And let's exercise compassion early on here: he's alone, while most of the patients had someone escorting them. He looked about my age, but heavier, and obviously he's waiting on a heart test of some sort himself, and may be on edge, not at his best.

Nonetheless.

The nurse in scrubs, mask on face, leaned over the man and said as nicely as one could wish that he needed to put the mask on over his face, mouth and nose both. Without going into the whole sad dialogue, the seated man told the nurse that he was stupid, the policy was stupid, and it was stupid to make him wear a mask when it was his risk to take. At this point, I'll simply add that words came to my mind, phrases and sentences I was tempted to speak.

With grace and firmness, the hospital staffer persisted, stating stupid or not, this policy was for the protection of everyone, and he needed to put the mask on or he would have to leave. He pulled up his mask, and told the kindly staff member they were stupid and they'd done their stupid thing so they should leave now.

After the door closed behind the nurse, he pulled the mask down below his nose, and turned to look right at me. And cocked an eyebrow. I stood there, standing over my responsibility, a 93 year old who can barely hear and is easily confused on a good day.

"Lead us not into temptation, and deliver us from evil."

I thought that, and say it, not because the sad silly man glaring at me was evil, but because of my own temptation to respond in anger and hostility. I didn't speak, in part out of prudence, and in large part because I feared what I'd say if I did, and even more what I'd say next if his defiance continued, as it likely would have in the moment.

Whatever your opinion about masks & precautions, in a heart hospital, surrounded by fellow patients clearly of whom most were what you might call immunocompromised, it's beyond question that simple human decency means you follow house rules and wear your mask, even if it's only a partial protection. He chose not to, and to echo a certain cinematic scene, he chose poorly.

I'm still working on my choice. My choice in the moment, my choices now, my choice of words writing this column. "Deliver us from evil," from righteous anger, from selfish defiance, from my own sin.

We are not done looking out for each other, and that's not just about masks. Let love prevail, and grace abound.

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's still working on some issues himself. Tell him how you exercise prudence, restraint, and godly defiance at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.